


Promises and Makeup

by KestrelShrike



Series: New Galaxy, Same Old Thirst [4]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Headcanon, New Galaxy, Rydros, Turian, Wren Ryder, prompted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 00:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11219748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: This was based on the prompt 'a promise' and my own headcanons involving both turian facial markings and Kandros in particular. I also think that Wren Ryder wouldn't have Shepard's own smooth ability to make the facial markings look good. Sorry, Kandros.





	Promises and Makeup

Morning, and it was difficult for Wren Ryder to leave the warmth of Tiran Kandros’ arms, comfortably circling around her waist, his face nestled into her hair. He, however, was still fast asleep, and she was loath to wake him. On the other hand, Ryder didn’t want to stay in bed any longer; once she was awake, it was difficult to fall back into dreams. Something to do with SAM maybe, and how it had re-wired her brain. She could never remember being like this before she became the Pathfinder. 

Carefully wiggling out from beneath him, Ryder noted Kandros’ faint grunt, the way he seemed to stretch out for a moment before falling back asleep completely. Sometimes his mandibles would twitch when he dreamed, a fact she hadn’t told him about. No such luck today, but staring at his face, grown so familiar over the past few months, gave her a few ideas, something she could try now when she had the opportunity to study him at her leisure. 

It wasn’t so much that Ryder indulged in makeup as it was that she put on battle paint, darkening the areas around her eyes both to prevent sun glare as continued homage to her dad. Her positive memories with him were few and far between, but she remembered watching Blade Runner, curled up against him with wide eyes. It had been his favorite, and they watched it together every couple of years, until they had fallen out of the habit. When she had gone through his belongings, he still had a file of the movie on his personal computer, ready to go. 

What it boiled down to, though, was that she didn’t have the right shade of blue, nothing as bright as Kandros’ own facial markings, and she wasn’t about to waste time mixing shades on the back of her hand and holding them up to him in the hopes that it would match. They would have to be darker; maybe she didn’t want to match him exactly anyway. He was so distinct with his blue, but, with an upward quirk of her lips, Ryder was much more suited to purple, the color of her hair and of her tattoos. 

With another fond smile to his sleeping face, she brought a small hand mirror close to her face, turning it this way and that, holding up eyeliner in the other hand, shadow at the ready. God, what on earth was she doing? Something only a half-awake mind could think up, reminiscent of a child playing dress-up or trying to imitate a parent by making themselves a little clone. Then again, who was watching? Exactly no one, and she could wipe it all off before Kandros even woke up. He slept late when he could, and it was barely seven in the morning. That gave her at least an hour as a cushion. Plenty of time for her little experiment, curiosity picking away at her until Ryder had no choice but to give in. 

One last glance to make sure that Kandros was still safely out and she was ready. Lips first, though turians didn’t have lips as such, and she wasn’t quite sure how to fit that into the overall design. Kandros’ distinctive blue lines outlined his mouth perfectly, so it would have to go on her lips, but it also made her look slightly clownish as she drew on the rough shape, more like a mime than someone trying to pay homage to their interspecies relationship. Okay, well… No one's looking, she reminded herself. You can take it all off later. Just finish it, and try not to feel like you’re doodling your name with his in a notebook or something, even if this is the same thing. 

Lips done. Okay, definitely looked like a sad French clown. Not a great look for the human Pathfinder, but maybe the rest of Kandros’ facial markings would map more easily onto her distinctly fleshy anatomy. There was probably a reason that humans didn’t adopt the turian method of identification though, even in those rare couples. There could always be a first though. 

The area under the eyes was next. On Kandros, the markings followed the planes of his plating easily, but on Ryder there was no such luck. She could follow her cheekbone a bit, but everything else was problematic, and she was starting to strongly suspect that she didn’t have the fine motor skills for this little endeavour, a fact that was confirmed as soon as her hand slipped, a line of purple now following the line of her nose and hitting her chin as her hand hit her thigh. “Shit!” Forgetting that she was supposed to be quiet, Ryder’s voice rang in the quiet of her room, and when she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized she’d also been biting her lip in concentration, thus smearing all her hard work there as well. It was possible to vaguely make out what she had intended- vaguely. 

Only after did she think to look towards the bed and see if her outburst had woken Kandros. Almost afraid to glance over her shoulder, Ryder turned slowly and winced as she saw that he had indeed woken up, propped up on one elbow, watching her with a grin. “Ryder,” he said, stretching and sitting up, “What the hell are you doing?” Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, he padded over, gently removing both the makeup brush and the mirror from her hands, turning them to and fro curiously and then putting them down. Next he examined her face; it was clear he was holding in laughter. 

“I have an explanation for this, I swear. Probably.” Not a good one, but Ryder launched right into it, looking down at her hands. If she looked at his face, she was afraid she would stop talking entirely. “I wanted to see what your markings would look like on my face. It was just… an idea.” Nope, no way she could say it without it sounding incredibly stupid. 

Considering his strength and the size of his hands, Kandros cupped her face gently, one finger rubbing away the smudged lines that ran down one cheek. “Wrong color, Ryder.” But he was still smiling faintly, more bemused than anything else. “Wrong shapes too. Right now you’re not a member of any turian colony. Good look for you though. I like it.” 

Ryder batted his hand away in mock-annoyance, but it was impossible to keep even a mock pout up. “So that’s what they mean? The colony you’re from on Palaven?” 

“Originally. Now it’s just a way to keep track of who’s who and who’s important in the world.” She reached up to echo his earlier movements, tracing the lines underneath his eyes and the one on his lips. Kandros nipped at her finger playfully, putting an arm around her waist to tug her back to bed, lying back down with nary an argument from her. 

Curling back into his warmth, Ryder wiped more of the markings onto her palms and then smeared a bit onto Kandros’ chest, earning a look of disgust. “And what about now? Do you still feel like you… belong to them, I guess?” 

He was quiet for a moment, and she had to turn her head to look up at him. “These are who I left behind. I came here to escape being Tiran Kandros. I guess I’ve done a pretty shitty job of that.” 

“Nah, you’ve done a great job, but if you wanna change it… I don’t know. I like your face, Kandros. The way it is. If you decide you’re going to change it, will you let me know first?” Not that she would do anything to change his mind- it was his face, after all, but it would be a surprise, to say the least, to come back and discover it had changed. 

Kandros’ voice went from melancholy contemplation to earnest, almost hushed words, as if he was afraid that the walls of the Tempest had suddenly become paper thin. “If I change my colony markings, it’s going to be to reflect Andromeda, the Initiative, the Nexus. You.” 

“Really?” She rolled to turn to him, their foreheads touching. 

“I promise.”


End file.
